Ah, house parties. I can’t really cope with anything remotely approaching that description now, but for a while there it was a confusing blend of excitement, alcohol and abject disappointment. They were never as good as I thought they would be. Still kept going back though, didn’t I? I’m a Southampton fan now. How things have changed.

This is about the first hour of any good house party. In my heyday you’d walk in to Green Day, Offspring, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, early Foo Fighters. Bush, for fuck’s sake. I was just finding a bit of a space where I enjoyed the company of a group of people. They weren’t troublemakers, and actually I keep in (facebook) touch with a few of that old gang even now and you’re all good people so that’s quite life affirming. I still love all those bands, too. Even Bush – Swallowed was a tune, don’t @ me.

So that part of every house party was pretty good. By the end, everyone’s wasted and I was such a tightly-wound coil of unease that I didn’t get drunk to the point of enjoyment. I just got sick, or was sensible enough to stop drinking before I felt ill and live with the unease. Either way, it wasn’t for me and I’d stop enjoying myself.

Leave a Reply